Hers Forever Anyway
by unbelievably.yours
Summary: The only time Mitchie EVER allowed Shane to come help her out in the kitchen. ShaneMitchie.


**Hers Forever Anyway**

**by unbelievably.yours**

_This is what happens when one gets hung over Camp Rock and begins to read other, AMAZING, fanfics. They try for forever to create one of their own. This is what happens. ;)_

* * *

"Oh Shane, you're not doing it right." Mitchie said, stifling a laugh. Instead of stirring the batter like she had asked him too, Shane took the whisk and started jabbing it around awkwardly in the mixing bowl. He let go of the handle and watched her walk over to him and take over. "See how I have this circular motion and how I'm trying to get the stuff off around the edge of the bowl?" When Shane shook his head with a playful grin on his face, Mitchie sighed. She knew he wasn't taking her seriously.

"All right, put your hands on top of mine." She ordered and felt his strong, relaxed hands on hers. Mitchie paused for a second, as a small smile crept across her face when she felt Shane breathe into her hair. As soon as he took in the faint lavender scent of her hair, all of sudden, whatever Mitchie had been nagging on about, meant _nothing_ to him. Oh what Shane would give to stay in his position forever, with the girl of his dreams in his arms…

"Shane? Are you _sniffing_ my hair?" The incredulity in her voice made the dark-haired, eighteen-year-old laugh.

"Maybe I should mess up on purpose from now on, so I get to hold you like this more often."

Mitchie turned around, wanting to tell him off for being such a forward jerk but instead found herself so close to Shane's face that their noses were almost touching. She hadn't kissed him yet, wanting to take things slow ("_Too_ slow," She overheard him moan to Nate once,) but she felt a strong inclination to lean in at that very moment. They were alone in the kitchen at camp, with all of the campers down at the lake for a goodbye party. The door was locked, and the sun seemed to shine down on only them, leaving them in the ring of spotlight that was created by its powerful rays. Shane slowly pressed her back into the table, to give her support. His dark brown eyes trailed over her soft pink lips. Shane noticed that Mitchie must've realized this, as her cheeks slowly displayed a bright shade of pink. They stood there, foreheads against each other's, eyes locked, long enough for them both to gradually share the same rhythm, the same speed while breathing. Mitchie sighed heavily. "Shane," she breathed, warm air refreshing his face.

"Yeah?" He responded in a hushed whisper, his low tone matching hers.

"I'm not kissing you." And with that, she ducked under his outstretched arms and walked over to the fridge, acting as if nothing had just happened.

"Mitchie," Shane hardly recognized his voice. It came out as an oddly high-pitched, strangled cry. "what the _hell_?" He closed his eyes, reliving the perfect moment that had just occurred seconds ago.

"I'm not kissing you," Mitchie repeated in a very businesslike voice, "because a kiss will only encourage an airheaded egomaniac like you." She pursed her lips. That was _one_ of her reasons. The main reason was that, well, Mitchie Torres had never kissed anyone before. She didn't want to risk screwing up their first kiss by doing something completely humiliating and idiotic and drive a huge wedge through their relationship.

Shane dropped his jaw in mock surprise. "Well _excuse_ me for being one of the last of my kind! Do you know how many jerks are left in the world? No one is brave enough to have an ego the size of their head anymore!"

Mitchie bit her lip and shook her head. Why did she love Shane again?

Oh right. It was because he was a stupid jerk.

She hastily checked her watch. Her mom had let her use the camp's kitchen for three hours unattended so Mitchie and Shane could spend some alone time baking a cake for Uncle Brown's birthday party. Evidently, Shane had forgotten right up until he asked Mitchie what were they doing baking a cake in the middle of the afternoon.

After a few minutes of silence, Mitchie looked up from the cake crust that she was making and just leaned forward on the table, arms propped up on the edge. She just stood there, watching him stir. Occasionally, her knees would nearly buckle underneath her weight whenever Shane flipped his hair away from his eyes. Mitchie didn't understand it, but it was one of those things about Shane that made her squeal inside like a fangirl.

Shane felt a pair of eyes watch his every move and slowly looked up into a pair of light brown eyes. He smiled. "You want to almost-kiss again?"

She laughed as Shane smiled. Her laugh was what he looked forward to hearing the most each day. "Almost-kiss?" She asked skeptically. "Is that what we do now?"

"Well yeah unless you want to make out right now." Shane said in a matter-of-fact voice, returning to his stirring.

Mitchie stuck out her tongue. Shane raised his eyebrows.

"Getting suggestive are we?"

She leaned across to whack him…only to look down at the bowl.

"_Shane_. _Gray_. Have you _ever_ cooked before?" Mitchie's voice lowered dangerously, emphasizing his name with impeccable clarity. Shane gulped. The room was so quiet that his gulp seemed like it was the loudest sound in the room. He looked up into her eyes, which were narrowed straight at him. His eyes trailed down to her fingers, which were now holding a jagged, white eggshell.

"How do you expect for Uncle Brown, or anyone for this matter, to eat a cake with random eggshells poking out the sides?! When I asked you to 'mix them in', I meant _only_ the yolk!" Mitchie huffed, eyes flashing. Shane coughed uncomfortably.

"_What_?" She asked with an unnecessary force on the word.

"I'm sorry Mitchie, you just look so cute when you're angry." Shane teased, cupping her face. Mitchie was horrified, not knowing whether to laugh or not. She turned back around and managed to complete and put the cake into the oven in less than five minutes. Mitchie faced him, crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows.

"I don't understand why you can't do this on your own." Shane said, laughing.

"Well you see," Mitchie explained as she took a seat down in front of the oven, "I'd thought it'd be cute of you to bake a cake for your uncle, but that was _before_ you had put eggshells into the cake."

He smiled. Shane constantly found his face aching from smiling and laughing so much whenever he was around her. It was worth it though. She looked down at her and then headed for the door. Mitchie, confused, stood up halfway.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, puzzled.

"Oh, well I was just going to go before the 'cake'," Shane made a point to use air quotes, "exploded and launched an eggshell into this beautiful face." He finished, pointing to himself. Throwing her a heavy wink, he put his hand on the knob…only to have his collar yanked back. Shane stared down at Mitchie, who was dragging him over to the oven. "You know, for a petite girl like you, you sure have a lot of strength."

She ignored him and pushed his shoulders down, making him sit. Mitchie then took a seat in his lap. The two of them sat there, faces given a red glow from the light in the oven. They watched the oven screen as though it were a fascinating, mind-washing TV show.

"This is the best show I've _ever_ watched." Shane commented, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Mitchie could only smile. With her ear against his chest, Mitchie could only sit there in silence, paying close attention to the way his heart beat simultaneously with hers, the way his chest and throat vibrated when he spoke. The rhythm that he created by just talking made Mitchie close her eyes. This was her favorite song.

"Hey Mitchie?" His voice broke her concentration.

"What?"

"Would it be all right to tell you that I didn't want to eat the cake anymore?"

Mitchie spun around and was caught offguard by how _mesmerizing_ his eyes were up close. Hell, if any girl had the chance to see his eyes from where she sat right then and there, they would've attacked him already. She bit her lip.

Shane stared at her. "Why do you always do that, bite your lip like that? It drives me crazy, it's so –"

"Shane?" Mitchie cut him off abruptly, moving her hands to his collar. It was too much for her, his deep brown eyes, his intoxicating smell, _him_. Shane Gray. Her fingers were now playing with the hairs on his nape. All she wanted to do now was to place her lips on his. Forget not knowing how to kiss.

Shane Gray was hers forever anyway.

"Shane." She repeated in a clear, unwavering voice.

"Mitchie."

"Shut up."

And then she kissed him.

* * *

**Hope you liked it. Please tell me what you thought!**

**unbelievably.yours**


End file.
